Wait for It
by Sabina-san
Summary: Victor could feel his stomach drop, and the appetite he had was now gone. It took him a few minutes to realize that the tiny dream he had of choosing love had been shattered. Arranged Marriage AU/fem!Yuri.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I was commissioned by Shiranai Atsune to write an arranged marriage AU with a fem!Yuri. The song that is referenced in the story is "Moondance" by Nightwish. I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Love doesn't discriminate  
between the sinners and the saints;  
It takes and it takes and it takes  
and we keep loving anyway.  
We laugh and we cry  
and we break and we make our mistakes.  
~ "Wait for It" from _Hamilton_

Victor Nikiforov had no idea how he had ended up here - here being in bed with a wife sleeping on the other side of the queen-sized mattress, a gold wedding band on his left ring finger, and feeling overwhelmed. The day had passed in a blur, and now that he was in bed intending to sleep, he found himself attempting to make sense of everything that had happened over the past few months instead of resting like he wanted to.

The Nikiforov family ran a well-known business empire in Russia. They owned resorts around the world that were regarded as premiere vacation destinations. Victor had been groomed to inherit the company when his father retired, and he looked forward to the day that he could be his own man. His father was a shrewd businessman and controlling in all aspects of his life, especially when it came to Victor, their only child. Victor had known from a very young age that his life was not his own, and over the years, he had grown to accept it because he knew no other way to live life.

Despite Victor's feelings of resignation when it came to his life, he continued to imagine having some small part of it that he could call his own - free from his father's influence and the demands of the business. He dreamed of falling in love with a woman of his own choosing and having a family. He imagined that he would be the opposite of his father in every way - present, kind, and accepting of the dreams of his children. Victor swore he would never force his children into inheriting the Nikiforov empire. This fantasy was effectively crushed a few months ago when his parents traveled to Japan, a country they hadn't built in yet, to scout out locations for a new resort.

When the Nikiforovs returned to St. Petersburg, Victor was surprised to learn that his parents had found a tiny town in Japan called Hasetsu that had once been famous for its hot springs. They talked of a family that owned the last hot spring resort in the dying town, and after spending a few days there, they had decided they wanted to pursue a partnership with the Katsukis. They envisioned rebuilding Hasetsu and restoring it to its former glory. Victor had never been to Japan, and as his parents discussed the features of Yutopia Akatsuki, Victor developed a desire to visit this resort that his family would now have a stake in.

Negotiations for the partnership were fast and furious. There was a flurry of emails, phone calls with the use of a translator, and endless reams of paper used to print contract revisions on. Victor barely paid attention because he knew all the fine details would be settled before he had a need to focus any sort of attention to Yutopia. He would hear arguments spring up between his parents as they wrestled with the demands of the Katsukis. It made Victor chuckle to know that this family was not so easily cowed by his overbearing parents.

Then one day, the contracts were settled and signed by both parties. This day was like any other day to Victor, but that was before he knew that it was far more monumental than he could ever imagine. That night, over a casual meal of borscht, Evgeni and Anastasia Nikiforov announced that Victor was engaged. Victor's mouth dropped open and his spoon slipped from his fingers and clattered on the glass tabletop.

"Excuse me?"

"In order to really solidify the partnership, we have decided, along with the Katsukis, to have you marry their daughter, Yuri. The wedding date is set for the end of June," Evgeni stated in his gravelly voice.

Victor could feel his stomach drop, and the appetite he had was now gone. It took him a few minutes to realize that the tiny dream he had of choosing love had been shattered. He could feel anger building up inside, but he knew better than to argue with his father. He had learned that he would never win. Without a word, he got up from the table and stormed to his downtown flat. He felt helpless and desolate - the desire to fight for himself had been broken long ago. He now knew there would be no escape for him. The freedom he had longed for had been stripped away and replaced with a gilded cage.

The engagement had been rushed as both families worked out the details of a destination wedding. The families had decided on a traditional Japanese ceremony in Hasetsu and then the couple would return to St. Petersburg for a Russian reception before Victor and Yuri settled into their new life as the heirs to the Nikiforov-Katsuki empire. Before Victor knew it, he was boarding a plane and jetting away to Japan. He slept fitfully on the plane, unsure what he was getting himself into. He had not met this young woman or even seen her. She apparently had a limited social media presence (he checked), and his parents had failed to retrieve a picture for him. To them, Victor liking her wasn't high on their list of priorities for the marriage.

When they finally arrived in Hasetsu, the Nikiforovs were greeted at the train station by Yuri and her best friend, Nishigori Yuuko. Victor's first view of his fiancée made him stop in his tracks. He had to admit that she was beautiful - with large, dark brown eyes and long jet black hair that shone almost blue in the harsh flourescent light of the station. She was short and slender with an athletic build. Victor had been told she was a ballet dancer and figure skater. Victor didn't know what he had been expecting from his fiancée, but he hadn't been expecting someone so shy and pure looking. They bowed to each other in greeting without exchanging a single word. It was a strange first meeting.

The party then traveled to Yutopia, where Victor had his first dose of the hot spring. As he soaked in the warm waters, he decided that if he wasn't lucky enough to marry for love, he could settle for the bliss that came with soaking in the hot spring. He contemplated his soon-to-be wife and wasn't sure what to think. She had been quiet throughout supper and easily forgotten. He had been drawn to the warm relationship between Hiroko and Toshiya. While they were never explicitly affectionate, it was clear from their glances, simple gestures, and vocal tone that they cared a great deal for each other. It made Victor realize just how frigid his parents were compared to the Katsukis. In Victor's mind, there was no doubt that Toshiya and Hiroko loved each other, but he couldn't say the same about his own parents. Did they love each other? What did they know of love? He realized that he, himself, had no idea what true love felt like.

The morning of the wedding came too quickly for Victor's taste. As he was dressed into the formal black kimono, grey striped hakama, and black haori for the ceremony, Victor realized that he hadn't really had the chance to interact much with Yuri and here he was, about to marry her! He wanted to rail against this whole arrangement, run and return to Russia. He was willing to risk his parents disowning him if it meant freedom. He had nothing against Yuri - he was sure she was a lovely young woman - but how could he make this type of commitment?

Staring into a full-length mirror, Victor didn't recognize the person standing before him. The reflection _looked_ like him but everything about him down to the clothing _felt_ so alien to him. He was still full of the heady rush of dreaming of escape and a smile lit his face with a joy that had been absent for weeks. Suddenly, a sober voice in the back of his mind stole that moment of bliss from him in the form of a realistic question. _What will you do to support yourself?_ He sighed, resigned to his fate. He knew that if he did escape, he would have no way of supporting himself. He was too dependent on his future as the Nikiforov heir.

Victor was ushered into a car and chauffeured to the local shrine. As he stepped out of the car, he had to admit that he was taken by the simple beauty of this religious place. He walked up the stairs to the entrance of the shrine to wait for his bride. He peered inside, seeing several people seated within, surrounded by orange pillars. He knew no one here except for his parents, who were standing beside him. Victor realized that he would have to go through the entire ceremony without knowing Japanese and without a translator in order to preserve the solemnity of the proceedings. He had no idea what he had to do, which further compounded his anxiety.

"Konnichiwa!" Hiroko's gentle voice sounded behind him.

Victor turned, and for the first time that day, he was struck dumb. Standing before him was Yuri dressed in an elaborate white kimono. Her hair had been arranged into a low chignon adorned with flowers as opposed to the traditional hat of a Shinto wedding. She looked stunning in the traditional outfit, and Victor felt his heart flutter in his chest. If he could say anything about Yuri it was that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her eyes remained downcast, but he could see the subtle pink blush on her cheeks. Here, they exchanged luck charms as a symbol of their engagement in the form of two simple golden bands on their left ring fingers.

The couple was ushered into the shrine and the ceremony began. Victor felt bereft in an unfamiliar ocean. He didn't understand the ceremony, the clothes were heavy, and the people were strangers to him. His heartbeat sounded in his ears, and he latched on to that sound as a steadying force. He could hear the lyrical foreign language as they went through the ceremony, and Victor wished he knew what was being said. Soon, he and Yuri were offering food to God followed by more Japanese. Victor stole glances of Yuri, wondering if he would be able to read what she was feeling. He got nothing from her expression - just peace.

Then, his parents and her parents were joining them at the altar and three shallow cups of increasing size were presented to all of them. Victor was instructed to take three sips of the spirits within, and he did so, scrunching his nose at the veracity of the sake. Each cup was passed to each couple, and everyone took three sips of the sake to represent the three couples, the flaws of hatred, ignorance, and passion; finally for freedom from each of those flaws. Once this was completed, Victor and Yuri were given a branch of greenery, which they presented to the altar with a bow and final prayer.

Victor and Yuri were married. They vacated the shrine and returned to Yutopia for a banquet. A large banquet room had been cleared and decorated for the reception. Victor was seated at a table in the front of the room as the rest of the party gathered at similar tables. Everyone began helping themselves to various foods set out and the sake after a brief ceremony in which more Japanese was spoken and a lid was lifted off of a barrel of sake. Yuri soon joined Victor beside him at the table, and Victor noticed that over her white kimono was now a colorful robe embroidered with golden cranes and red flowers.

Victor had no idea what to say to her. This was the first time he had the chance to talk to Yuri, and he didn't know where to start. Yuri gazed up at him with her dark eyes, and a curiosity was within them.

"Is...is everything to your satisfaction?" she asked.

 _Ah...English. She speaks English._ Victor smiled, glad that they had a way to communicate. "Everything is fine," he lied as he returned his attention to his sake.

The party continued with many speeches and performances from the guests. Through it all, Victor continued to steadily partake of the sake. By the end, he hadn't noticed that Yuri had changed from kimono to a strapless, long red evening gown, his parents had disappeared long ago, and that he still didn't understand _anything_ the guests had been saying. He had stopped caring about how foreign everything was to him. The room and people swam around him, his body warm from the copious amounts of sake. He knew he was tipsy but not completely drunk. The next thing he remembered was that he had been escorted to a bedroom on the second floor with his wife trailing behind him.

Victor stumbled into the room, the shoji sliding shut behind him and his wife. He turned to see Yuri standing before him with her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes downcast once again. Victor shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind from the influence of alcohol, but it was utterly ineffective. _She is beautiful,_ he thought for what seemed like the millionth time that day. He slowly approached her, reaching out to touch her for the first time.

Wide eyes met his as his fingers brushed the smooth skin of her cheek. Victor started at the fear that those eyes conveyed. He lowered his hand, unsure what to do now. He knew that the next step was to consummate the marriage, but he wasn't sure this was what she wanted. He knew he would have no trouble actually fulfilling this part of the marriage - he was attracted to her, but he didn't want to force her.

It hit Victor then. This was not what he had wanted for his wedding night. He wanted it to be passionate; to be in love with the woman he would be spending the rest of his life with. For them _both_ to know that forever together was what they wanted. Instead, he had this exquisite but quiet creature standing before him, and he knew absolutely nothing about her other than she was gorgeous, an athlete, and that his parents and her parents wanted them together.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, suddenly feeling the beginnings of sobriety poking at the edges of his muddled brain.

Curiosity once again. "Why?"

"I barely know you...and now here we are..."

"H-have I done something to disappoint you?" Yuri's English was accented in such a way that made Victor's heart flutter. It was so difficult to focus on anything other than how charming she was.

Victor shook his head vigorously and stumbled to the side. Yuri reached out, her hands coming to rest on his biceps to keep him steady. Victor's blue eyes focused on hers, and he saw the blush deepen on her cheeks. "No...you could never disappoint me," he found himself saying.

A nervous laugh as Victor righted himself. "I think that's bold of you to say. You barely know me," Yuri stated quietly.

Victor found himself laughing bitterly as the alcohol continued to lose its hold, and the reality of the situation was beginning to overwhelm him. "Well...that didn't stop any of this from happening."

He realized his bluntness surprised Yuri. Her hands slipped from his arms, and Victor didn't realize how much he was enjoying her gentle reassurance. She stepped back, appearing to curl into herself. Victor wanted to take it all back, but now he was angry. Angry that he was robbed of making one of the most important decisions in his life for himself. He didn't want to take it out on Yuri. He turned away from her and looked around until he found a folding partition painted with ocean waves crashing on a beach.

He made his way behind the partition and began to strip himself of his heavy fabrics. Once they were removed, he sighed and peered around to look for his own clothing. Sitting on a low stool was his pajamas neatly folded. He quickly dressed and emerged to find Yuri already in the bed. Victor sighed. This was how he would spend his wedding night. His wife laying on the other side of the bed without any form of contact. Victor would lay there, wide awake, wondering if this would ever get better. He glanced at Yuri, her back to him, one last time before rolling over and attempting to fall asleep.

* * *

Back in St. Petersburg, everything felt so surreal to Victor. He was returning to the familiar territory that was his home, and he should've found comfort in that, but he couldn't. His world was irrevocably changed. Instead of coming back to his flat a bachelor, he was bringing a woman he had married less than two days ago. His flat had always been a place of escape for him, but now he wasn't sure what to expect from his new flatmate.

The first night back was uneventful. Severely jet-lagged, Yuri had immediately crawled into the king-size bed and promptly fallen asleep. Victor was left alone to wonder where he should sleep - in the bed with Yuri like he was expected to, or on the couch with his trusty poodle Makkachin. He would be much more comfortable on the couch even if he had to share the small space with his giant dog. As an act of rebellion, he chose the couch.

The following morning found Victor dressed in a pale grey business suit and cobalt blue tie standing before his father in his large office with windows overlooking the city. Evgeni sat behind his huge wooden desk, his elbows resting on the sparsely covered surface with slender fingers entwined. Victor quailed under his father's intense gaze and tried his best to appear impassive.

"Now that you're married, you'll be taking a more active role in the business." Victor waited for his father to continue. "I am putting you in charge of the Yutopia project. I expect you to make your wife a partner in this as she is familiar with the language and customs of Japan."

"Of course," Victor murmured, the mention of his wife causing annoyance to percolate in the back of his mind.

"It is also your duty to produce an heir for the Nikiforovs. I will not let our business die with you or be taken over by another family. I have worked too hard to make us what we are today to entrust it to someone who hasn't been involved with the company since birth."

Duty. The word generated an intense anger that burned deep in Victor's chest. Duty had become the padlock of his cage, and Victor was now questioning everything about his life - had been since his engagement had been announced. He wished he had the gift of foresight and found some way to secure independence for himself so that when this life became too much of something he didn't want, he could walk away without a care.

 _I'm a coward,_ Victor thought bitterly. He knew the only reason he didn't fight with his father was because it made his life easier. Avoiding conflict was always better than the soul-crushing embrace of it because his father was always victorious, especially when he threatened to disinherit him. Victor was certain this wasn't an empty threat.

 _And yet..._ Victor suddenly felt wicked. He knew there were other ways to rebel, and he realized that he had started it his wedding night by leaving the marriage unconsummated. Being married was affording him limited freedom in the fact that his parents wouldn't be constantly checking on him. It was a small opening, but Victor would take it, and he would begin planning an exit strategy for himself.

Thoughts raced through Victor's mind as he contemplated the implications of his indirect conflict. While there was always the risk of being forced into open conflict with his father, the lure of having control of his life in some way was too strong to ignore. Yes, he was married to Yuri, but he could determine the course of their relationship and when children would enter the equation. Victor left that meeting with a grin of mischievous satisfaction, knowing that freedom lay in his marriage.

When Victor returned to his flat, he was feeling more in control than he had in months, and it was a exhilarating feeling. As he walked through the door, he stopped short at the sight of his wife curled up on the couch with a book in her hand and Makkachin lying next to her. She looked toward him when she heard him enter the flat, and a small smile that communicated her unease was visible on her lips. Victor regarded her, noting her body was tense, her hair had been pulled back into a ponytail and that her comfortable clothing, which consisted of a sweatshirt and yoga pants, was immaculate. Victor could feel a slight blush in his cheeks as he thought, not for the first time, that his unwanted wife was quite beautiful. Makkachin barked in greeting as he bounded across the room to Victor.

"How was your meeting?" she asked as she closed the book and set it on the couch cushion.

"Fine," Victor's reply was short as he unbuttoned his suit coat and began loosening the tie around his neck. "Father wants you involved in the Yutopia project...and he wants you to learn Russian."

He knew he shouldn't be so cold towards Yuri, but he couldn't help himself. Victor was still so, so bitter over her being around despite his surface attraction for her. Fundamentally, he was set against her because she wasn't his choice. He knew that if he had met her on his own, he would pursue her because her looks were intriguing. The fact remained that he hadn't, and he was going to maintain distance between them.

"O-oh. I can try. Is there a program you recommend?"

Victor paused in untying his tie to regard his wife. A derisive snort escaped from him. "How would I know? I already know how to speak Russian."

Yuri blushed furiously out of embarrassment. "Of course," she mumbled.

Victor sighed with exasperation, feeling slightly guilty for treating her this way. "I apologize," he said formally. "I'm in a mood. I'll...I'll find something to help you. You don't want to disappoint my parents, believe me."

"I'll do my best," Yuri said. Silence filled the room as Victor finished with his tie and hung it off the coat rack before bending to ruffle Makkachin's fur. Yuri picked up the book, but bounced it in her hand instead of opening it back up. "What will I do in the project?"

"Hm? Oh...mostly translate things for me. I just don't have the time to learn Japanese while we work on the upgrades to the property. And...if you know what will draw tourists, you'll let me know. This has to make money for our union to be worth it."

Victor's last off-hand and direct comment made Yuri flinch, but he didn't notice. He had gone into the kitchen to rifle through the refrigerator for something to eat. As he searched, he hummed with irritation. Nothing looked appetizing. When he stepped back to shut the door, he turned and startled to see Yuri standing before him. She continued to look apologetic and unsure. He wondered how long it would take for her to become comfortable in Russia and to pull herself out of her uncertain shell.

"If you would like...I could make you something to eat."

Victor's smile was honest. "Okay."

Another thing he learned that night was that Yuri could cook delicious food. Victor wasn't sure how she accomplished it, but she was able to take the limited and sometimes unfamiliar to her ingredients and turn them into something outstanding. As they sat to eat, Victor couldn't help the exclamations of pleasure that rolled out of his mouth. His genuine smile coupled with the praise, making Yuri blush a deep red.

"How did you do this? I know my pantry and fridge weren't well stocked."

"My mother cooks all the food for the guests at the inn. She learned at an early age how to maximize the ingredients she had and not let anything go to waste. She passed that skill on to me as well."

"I'm glad she did!" Victor crooned as he licked the last bit of sauce off his spoon. He knew it was rude, but he couldn't help it. There was no way a single morsel was going to be wasted.

Yuri's only response was a breathy chuckle before she helped herself to another bite of food. Victor watched her, attempting to discern any other emotions from her. He found her surprisingly guarded, and he wondered what he could do to break through the wall.

 _Why do I care so much?_ Victor asked himself. He then sighed. _I'm not completely cold-hearted. It's okay if I worry a little about her well being. It's not like she had a choice in this either._

"My parents told me you're a dancer and figure skater."

Yuri regarded him with muted surprise. "Yes. I compete in figure skating."

"Really?" Victor leaned forward, letting Yuri know she had his full attention.

She blushed. "I'm not that good. I mean, I'm certified by the JSF, and I've been a national champion, but I've never won an international competition."

"That sounds like you're pretty good to me," Victor argued gently. "Not everyone can claim to be a national champion."

Yuri shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. "Do you do anything in your free time?"

Victor was about to retort with a sarcastic reply, but he stopped himself. He knew Yuri was attempting to get to know him, and he knew his own defensiveness wouldn't help break down the wall he was so concerned with a few minutes ago. "I used to ice skate."

Yuri smiled. "Why don't you anymore?"

"I just don't have the time. My father made it clear that skating was a waste of time because it had nothing to do with the business."

"Oh. That's too bad." Yuri was abashed, and she looked as if she took pity in this fact of Victor's life.

"It's fine," Victor brushed the disappointment away. "I'm used to it. My father has controlled every aspect of my life for as long as I can remember. It's just one thing out of a string of many that he has denied me."

The lull in conversation fell between them; unspoken was the nature of their marriage and how it pertained to what Victor had just divulged to Yuri. Victor became oblivious to Yuri's emotions, feeling his own resentment flood him momentarily. He viciously stabbed a vegetable with his fork and looked at it briefly before putting it into his mouth. He used the time it took to chew and swallow to calm himself and return to more pleasant conversation.

"I wouldn't mind seeing you skate. I want to see what the Japanese National Champion is capable of."

Yuri just blushed in response. The rest of the meal was finished with more small talk. For the first time in months, Victor felt at ease and allowed himself to truly enjoy the moment. The magic of the evening meal was broken once the dishes were cleaned and put away. Victor retreated to the bathroom to shower and immediately went to bed. He no longer felt the need to try to connect to Yuri and just wanted to wallow in his own misery. He fell asleep before she came to bed. She seemed to be aware of Victor's desires because when he awoke the next morning, she had maintained space between them the whole night.

* * *

Weeks melted into months. Victor had no idea how Yuri spent her days while he was at the office. Well, that wasn't completely true. He knew she was diligently working on learning Russian. There were were several days he came home to see her sitting in front of the television with a Russian to English dictionary and then an English to Japanese dictionary in front of her. The look of intense concentration on her face was rather adorable to Victor, and he chuckled fondly. When he was certain she wasn't looking, he had peered at the dictionaries out of curiosity and saw that one was getting more use than the other. This confirmed that her grasp of English was better than he had thought.

The other thing he noticed was that Yuri always either had dinner on the table or was in the kitchen cooking when he came home. He began to look forward to these home cooked meals. Before she came along, Victor either ate dinner with his parents at their home or he ate out. He wasn't one for cooking his own food as it took far more effort than he was willing to expend at the end of the day. He loved everything she cooked, especially when she started introducing him to Japanese cuisine. It was one of the ways she was beginning to endear herself to him.

Other than learning Russian and cooking, he wasn't sure what else she did. He found himself wondering that one day instead of worrying about budgets and building renderings. He had a pencil in his hand that he was twiddling in between his fingers, his head resting on a propped hand. He sighed, completely distracted by the thought of his beautiful wife skating on the ice. He imagined her in some dark sparkly and gauzy dress that was form fitting. One of her long legs was extended behind her with arms spread wide as she glided gracefully over the ice.

He could feel lust coil deep in his pelvis, and the twirling pencil dropped from his hands. He attempted to stop it from clattering on his desk, but he couldn't catch it. His erection was slightly uncomfortable as he exhaled to try to calm his whirling thoughts. Victor retrieved his pencil and attempted to return his attention to his work, but it was proving more difficult than he anticipated. All he could think about was Yuri's alluring attractiveness.

With a frustrated growl, Victor slammed his pencil down on his desk and rose quickly, buttoning his suit jacket to hide his increasingly noticeable arousal. On his way out of the office, he ran into his father. He gave a quick excuse why he was leaving the office early and vacated before Evgeni could protest or stop him. Victor drove all the way to his flat, attempting to tamp down imaginings of his wife in erotic situations. He knew he needed to calm himself before he lost complete control. He wasn't sure how well a sexual advance would be received, even though they were married. They still hadn't crossed that boundary.

Arriving at the flat, Victor immediately noticed that the place was empty. Makkachin was making his way into the living room from the hallway, his tail wagging with excitement. Victor bent down to pet Makkachin with a fond smile.

"Where's Yuri?" he asked the poodle.

Makkachin just gazed at him with a soft _woof._ Victor sighed and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He wasn't sure if Yuri drove, and even then, he wasn't sure where she would go. He wasn't even certain that she had ever left the flat. They hadn't gone anywhere together since they had married. He called down to the concierge. He hoped the man would be able to tell him the whereabouts of his wife.

"No, sir. I haven't seen her, but..."

"Yes?"

"A few weeks ago, she requested a key to the dance studio we have on the third floor. Have you looked there?"

Victor thanked the man before hanging up. He didn't even know there was one in the building. He returned to the elevator and made his way down to the third floor. When the elevator door opened, he saw a sign that directed him to the left. He walked down a grey colored hallway until he came to a glass door. Beyond it was a brightly lit room with a wooden floor and mirrors on the walls. When he came to the door, he could see Yuri dancing in pointe shoes, dressed in a black leotard, white tights, and a sheer pink skirt tied around her waist. Her hair was pulled back tightly into a bun.

Victor watched in awe as Yuri stepped her way across the floor en pointe before moving into an arabesque. The lines of her body were graceful yet strong, and Victor was drawn into the sheer beauty of her movement. The music that he could hear through the glass was gentle sounding with flute and piano but soon melted into heavy drumming, full orchestra, and electric guitar. With the change came sharper movements from Yuri. Despite the hardness the music conveyed, her dance remained graceful, but even if the dance had become a little more sloppy, Victor wouldn't have cared. He was mesmerized.

This was the first time Victor was seeing deep emotion from Yuri, and he was helplessly pulled in by the strength of it. He could feel the deep passion she was conveying, and it made his heart ache from the intensity of it. The dance ended, and Yuri's chest heaved from her exertion. Without a second thought, Victor burst through the door, startling his wife. She hastily stood from her finishing pose, her eyes wide.

"Victor!" she called, her shock dampened by her deep breaths.

"Yuri...that..."

"I'm sorry!" she cried with a deep bow, which surprised Victor. "I wasn't expecting you home so soon! If I'd known, I would've-"

"Stop," Victor commanded.

Yuri rose from her bow. She regarded him with a careful gaze, wondering what he was going to say. Victor wasn't quite sure what to say. He felt his words would be inadequate to express exactly what he was thinking at this time. Her dance had been stunning and had forced him to see his wife in a new light. There was more of her to appreciate beyond her cooking and her dedication to learning Russian, and Victor realized he needed to acknowledge this side of Yuri he hadn't seen.

"I...Yuri, that was incredible. It...it was so...I don't know..." Yuri nodded, unsure how to take his utterance. Victor cleared his throat. "I didn't know you were still dancing."

Yuri nodded, her hands clasped and fingers twisting in each other. "Yeah. I come down here almost every day."

Victor could tell Yuri was expecting a lecture from him like she was a naughty child. He immediately felt guilty that he elicited those types of responses from Yuri, and he wanted to fix it. He took a step towards her, and felt his heart fall when he saw her unconsciously move back a step.

"The choice in music was...unexpected. It doesn't seem... _you_."

A nervous chuckle as her eyes wandered toward the floor briefly. "Oh. I was annoyed."

"Oh?"

Yuri sighed, her body swaying with her sudden burst of agitation. "Your language! I don't think I'll ever get it! Eto...eto slozhno!"

It took a moment for Victor to process what she had said in his native language due to her Japanese accent and mis-emphasis on one of the syllables. When he realized what she had said, he couldn't help the broad smile and hearty laugh that escaped his mouth. He saw the annoyance in Yuri grow, but he approached her and threw his arms around his wife. He didn't pay any heed to the stiffening of her body - all he thought about was how perfectly she fit in his arms. He was enjoying the feel of her body against his, and he wanted to keep her close.

"I'm sorry...I'm laughing because it was adorable!" He looked down and loosened one of his arms around her to reach up and brush away a stray lock of hair from her face. "Have I told you that I think you're beautiful?" he murmured before he could stop himself.

Yuri's eyes grew so wide that Victor thought her eyeballs might pop out of their sockets. "N-n-no."

"How remiss of me," his tone was deep and volume low. "You're breathtaking."

Yuri squeaked before pulling away from Victor. Her face was bright red and not from her dancing. She turned and went to a bag that held all of her accessories for dance. Next to it was her water bottle, which she picked up as she sat on the floor while she took a swig from it. Victor just continued to watch her, and then he sighed. It was clear that she wasn't looking for anything more. Victor's lust still lingered, and he knew he would be having a date with his hand in the shower later that evening.

"So...Russian is proving a little difficult?"

Yuri nodded, appearing relieved with the change in topic. "I'm trying...honestly."

"I can help you...if you want?"

The hesitant question hung in the air between them, and it took a moment for Yuri to realize that he was being serious. She smiled wide and nodded. "Yes. I would appreciate that...if it doesn't inconvenience you."

"Well, I _am_ going to want something in return."

Yuri's response was ambivalent. "Okay..."

"I want to see you dance more."

* * *

 _Eto slozhno_ : It is difficult.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites! It makes me so giddy to receive feedback from my readers! There's a lot of angst in this chapter, but I promise it will get better. Enjoy!

* * *

We don't talk enough;  
we should open up  
before it's all too much.  
Will we ever learn?  
We've been here before.  
It's just what we know.  
~"The Sign of the Times" by Harry Styles

Victor was using Yuri.

It was true that he really enjoyed watching her dance, but it didn't take long for his motives to morph into something more selfish. He had learned that Yuri only danced during the day when she was alone. She has told him evenings were meant for them to be a couple, which Victor thought was hilarious because the only time in the evening they were a couple was during dinner. Other than that, they did their own, separate activities.

The parameters that Yuri had set for her dance times provided Victor the opportunity to rebel against his father. The days that Evgeni was being especially overbearing - which was many of them, if Victor was honest with himself (he was sure Evgeni didn't know how to _not_ be controlling) - Victor would leave the office early and make his way to the third floor dance studio. Usually, Yuri would already be there either stretching or in the middle of a dance. Victor didn't want to interrupt her, so he rarely went into the studio, contenting himself with watching her from the door.

Victor knew Yuri had given her permission for him to watch her dance, but ever since that first day he saw her, he noticed that her dancing had changed. He no longer saw freeform dance to music that ballerinas wouldn't normally dance to. Instead, he was seeing more of the classical ballet. It didn't make her dancing less beautiful - she was still breathtaking to watch - but he realized that she was guarding her true emotions. What she was displaying wasn't her feelings but those of the character she was portraying. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew she was playing the same game he was when it came to their relationship: guard every vulnerability.

This particular day, Evgeni had stopped Victor on his way out and demanded to know why Victor was leaving. Victor exhaled in an attempt to calm the ire that was already coursing through every vein in his body before he answered. He knew his father was prepared for a battle, and it wasn't something Victor was willing to get into with him at this time.

"I'm going to spend time with my wife."

"That's what evenings are for, Victor."

Victor brushed past his father, muttering "I have a duty to fulfill."

Evgeni whirled around, his eyes narrowed. "That _duty_ should be confined to the evenings as well. Don't tell me you _love_ her."

His words made Victor halt in his path to the elevators. His eyes enlarged in shock before he composed himself in order to face Evgeni. He couldn't believe that his father had mentioned that four letter word with such contempt. Then again, he knew he shouldn't be surprised. It was clear in that simple sentence that Evgeni didn't believe in love, and he had inadvertently confirmed to Victor that there wasn't any between Evgeni and Anastasia.

"What makes you say I love her?" Victor asked quietly. He knew he didn't, but he also wanted to keep that information close to his chest.

"Only those who've lost sight of who they are and their masculinity go looking for their women at all hours of the day. Did she convince you to engage in such behavior?"

"She doesn't control me!" Victor lashed out, his eyes flashing with rage at what his father was implying about him.

Evgeni's smirk expressed that he thought the complete opposite. "Then why do you feel the need to leave work to see her on an almost daily basis? It seems to me she has mastery of you. How _sad_."

Victor swallowed his words, his face burning from his indignation and embarrassment. He realized he had been careless in his defiance, and if he said anything else, he would be revealing feelings he didn't want used against him. He didn't love Yuri - he knew that for certain - but he was beginning to care for her, and that was enough of a weakness for Evgeni to exploit. Evgeni's smile was predatory with the knowledge that he had tightened his hold on his wayward son once more.

"Now, turn yourself around and go back to your office. There's that report about the cost of upgrades to Yutopia that I want on my desk by five."

"Yes, father," Victor whispered through clenched teeth.

Evgeni turned away and began walking away. "Oh, and I want Yuri here tomorrow. She needs to translate that phone call we're having with the Katsukis about the upgrades."

"Yes, father."

Victor did get that report done by five, but he seethed in his anger the whole time. He couldn't believe that he had been careless in this. He had thought he had covered his tracks well, but it seemed that his father was watching his every move, and it bothered him. He was a grown man, and his father traced him as if he was an untrustworthy teenager. He began to wonder who had divulged the fact that he was leaving work early to his father, and he briefly considered Yuri. _Would she? I don't think so...what would she gain from that? Still...it's not like I really know her. She could've told him, and I don't know why. It's not like she's free with her thoughts._

He returned to the flat that evening in a foul mood, which Yuri picked up on the moment he walked through the door. Dinner was already on the table, and Yuri was pouring a glass of red wine for Victor. Her smile was hesitant, but it immediately fell when Victor greeted it with a glower. Even Makkachin kept his distance. Victor sat down at the table and began to serve himself. Yuri left briefly to set the bottle of wine down before returning and sitting at the other end.

The oppressive silence swallowed them both. Victor continued to stew in his anger to the point where he didn't even taste the food he was shoveling in his mouth. He was eating because he needed to, not for enjoyment. He watched Yuri eat, wondering why she was so calm and quiet. _Why isn't she asking me what's wrong? Does she know because she blew me in to my father?_ The poisonous thoughts circled in his mind until Victor could no longer take it. He slammed his fork down on the table, making Yuri jump and her eyes dart to him.

"I'm sure you noticed I didn't come today," Victor began.

"I...I assumed you were busy," Yuri stammered, her fork hanging mid-air in her hand.

"And it was acceptable to you that I didn't come without a word? Didn't you wonder what happened to me?" Victor's tone was accusatory.

"Of course I did!" Yuri asserted earnestly. "But...you've never called me before. I wasn't expecting you to. As for me calling you, you've never told me that was an expectation."

Victor was annoyed that Yuri's arguments were solid. It deflated his ire slightly, but not enough to completely extinguish it. He was still suspicious of Yuri despite the fact that he really had no rational reason to do so. Yuri set her own fork back in her bowl and slowly stood. She attempted to keep her face downward, but Victor caught sight of the sheer misery on her face, and it was like a punch to his gut. _I hurt her. Damn it!_

"Yuri..."

She looked up at him, and he could see her eyes were glassy from tears. "I'll be sure to call you if that's what you want."

"It won't matter tomorrow," Victor grumbled, his own eyes straying down to his bowl. He couldn't handle seeing Yuri so upset - not when he didn't want to admit that he was the cause of it. He was too focused on his own hurt. "Father wants you there to translate a phone call to your parents."

A brief pause. "Of course."

Victor heard Yuri pad away from the dining room. He groaned and rested his elbows on the tabletop, his face going into his hands. His long fingers laced into his platinum hair, pulling tight. He was so frustrated that nothing was going his way, he couldn't understand why everyone around him was able to make him feel worthless, and he had no idea how to fight that without becoming so indignant. If he was honest with himself, he also was upset that Yuri hadn't confirmed or denied that she had been the one to alert Evgeni to their afternoons, and it made him less inclined to continue working on breaking down the wall between them.

* * *

The next morning, Victor and Yuri were present in Evgeni's office for the scheduled conference call with the Katsukis at eight-thirty. Yuri had dressed in a purple sweater dress that had three-quarter sleeves. The skirt rested right above her knees. She wore opaque black tights with black heeled boots that came up mid-calf. Victor thought she looked lovely and sophisticated. Evgeni merely glanced her way, nodding with approval before gathering up all the paperwork he needed for the call.

"The report was just what I needed," Evgeni told Victor. It was his way of praising Victor indirectly. "How is her Russian progressing?" Evgeni inquired as if Yuri wasn't in the room. Not that it would matter as the conversation was in the language in question. It also indicated to Victor that Evgeni didn't want to communicate in English, though it would've made the translation process easier.

"Well," Victor responded stiffly. "It'll be easier for her today to translate to English. I'll translate to Russian."

"She needs to learn quicker," Evgeni pressed.

Victor was becoming annoyed, and he felt the need to defend her. "She's learning much quicker than others. It's only been a few months, and she has an entire language to become fluent in. Give her time."

Evgeni glared. "She doesn't have _time_. Maybe she should be focusing on that instead of the fulfillment of your... _duty_."

Victor wanted to retort because a non-response would indicate that he was indeed sneaking off for sex, but he bit his tongue. It was no use getting into an argument right before the conference call. He glanced at Yuri, who just stared at them with curiosity. It was clear she knew Victor was irritated and was unsure of what she should do. Thankfully, everyone was spared further conversation on the matter when the phone rang exactly at the specified time. Evgeni pressed a button, and the call went to the speaker.

"Moshi, moshi!" Yuri sang.

"Yuri!"

Victor had never seen such a broad smile on Yuri's face as he did the moment she heard the familiar voices of her parents. "Otō-san! Oka-san!" The greetings were followed by more rapid Japanese.

Evgeni soon cleared his throat to get Yuri's attention, and she abruptly stopped mid-sentence to look his way apologetically. "Did they look over the proposal?"

Victor relayed the question to Yuri in English, who then spoke to her parents. "Yes. They have concerns about the upgrades."

"Why?" Evgeni demanded.

"The inn is a historical building, and tourists come there for a break from modern life. The Katsukis are certain they would see a drop in guests if they completed the changes you proposed."

"And what do they want to do with the money instead?"

"Repairs," Victor replied after Yuri told him in English. "They have a list of items to be taken care of and are in the process of obtaining estimates of cost." A pause. "They said they could have the numbers sent to us in a day or two."

The conversation continued like this for a few more minutes. It was clear to Victor that Evgeni was annoyed with what the Katsukis were recommending because it wasn't the type of resort he was used to having associated with the Nikiforov name. The fact that the Katsukis were adamant about what they wanted made Victor inwardly chuckle with glee. Again, he was glad to see that they wouldn't give in so easily to Evgeni.

"Fine. I'll wait for the numbers. I'm finished talking to them," Evgeni grumbled.

Victor repeated this to Yuri. She nodded and indicated to her parents that the business was concluded. She was about to press a button to end the call when the sound of her name stopped her.

"Yuri," Hiroko's voice came over the phone, "Shiawase desu ka?"

Yuri's eyes conveyed her shock, and Victor saw her swallow thickly to tamp down deep emotion with a nod. "Shiawase," she choked out.

With that, the phone call ended. Yuri bowed to Evgeni and left the office. Victor was dumbfounded by what had just transpired. He had no idea what had been said, but it was enough to dredge up some grief in his wife, and it worried him. He knew he needed to get to the bottom of what had caused his own outburst last night before he could handle Yuri's discomfiture. He eyed Evgeni who had the gall to look completely unconcerned.

"Who told you about my afternoons?" Victor demanded softly.

Evgeni's icy eyes trailed to Victor, fixing him with a dead stare. "Your secretary."

 _That bitch,_ Victor fumed. "Of course. Such a loyal Nikiforov employee," his words were sarcastic. _She's fired._

Before Evgeni could say anything else, Victor excused himself. He left the office with as much decorum as he could muster as he didn't want to alert his father that he was chasing after his wife. There was only so much evisceration he could take from his father in one day. Once the door was shut behind him, he took off down the hall to look for Yuri. He turned the corner and found her waiting for the elevator. He was glad that he had caught up to her because he had a desperate curiosity that needed to be assuaged.

"Yuri!" he called out. Yuri's head turned toward him, and Victor's heart clenched to see the sadness in her dark eyes. He wanted to comfort her, but he wasn't sure she would accept that. Instead, Victor cleared his throat and slowly approached her. "What did your mother ask you at the end of the phone call?"

Yuri inhaled sharply. Her gaze turned toward the digital display above the elevator doors to watch the numbers change. It appeared she was debating with herself whether she should answer or not. She finally exhaled and returned her attention to him. Her entire body remained facing the elevator doors, maintaining an invisible barrier between them. "She asked...if I was happy."

The question shocked Victor. He hadn't been expecting something so personal. "What did you say?"

Yuri looked away to hide her true emotions. "I told her yes."

"Why did you lie?" he blurted. He was certain she had.

"Would telling the truth change anything?"

Her tone was so despondent, it cut Victor like a knife. He opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ to make her feel better, but the elevator took that moment to ding and slide its doors open. He watched as Yuri boarded the elevator without another glance his way. The doors slid shut, and it was like Yuri was shutting him out more than she ever had.

He had wanted to apologize for his tantrum the night before. He wanted to heal the rift between them so they could pick up where they had left off. Victor was just beginning to feel comfortable around her, and now he felt like they were back to the beginning of their relationship. Victor knew it - he had screwed up big time, and he had no idea how to fix it. He spent the rest of the day dwelling on his mistakes with Yuri. He wasn't sure how he could communicate the depth of his remorse to her without coming off as insincere to his own feelings.

That evening when Victor returned to the flat, he was greeted by darkness. Yuri was nowhere to be seen, there was no dinner on the table, and even Makkachin was absent. The somberness of the atmosphere crushed Victor, and he went through the process of removing his shoes and tie as quickly as he could in order to figure out where his wife and dog were. He made his way to the bedroom to find the door shut. He opened it to see moonlight shining upon a figure curled up under the comforter with her back to the door and an arm out petting Makkachin. Makkachin was lying in front of her.

Victor approached the bed slowly. "Yuri?"

The hand that was petting Makkachin stopped and withdrew beneath the comforter. He reached the edge of the bed, noticing that Yuri wasn't turning to face him. He sat on the edge of the bed by her hips, unsure where to begin. He hoped she would break the silence so he knew where to start, but as the minutes passed, it became obvious that she was going to remain silent.

"Yuri..." Victor finally said after he couldn't take the silence anymore. "I..."

"You must be disappointed in me," Yuri said in monotone.

"Why would...?" but Victor stopped himself from finishing that question. He knew why Yuri would think that about him. He shook his head and decided honesty was the best policy. "No. Remember what I said our wedding night?"

Yuri snorted softly with derision. "I told you that was bold of you to say. Everyone has the capacity to disappoint."

"Yeah...and I know I disappointed you."

That admission made Yuri turn so that she could gaze upon Victor. Her eyes were hard - resentful - and it made Victor quail. "How?"

"You lied to your mother about your happiness," Victor pressed. "Obviously I'd be at fault for that."

Yuri slowly sat up, the comforter and sheets pooling at her waist. She had changed from the dress she wore earlier in the day to a t-shirt and, Victor assumed, yoga pants. "Why should I be unhappy? I married the richest, most eligible bachelor in the business world and stole you from other women who are far more beautiful and suitable partners. I have no reason to be anything _but_ happy."

The bitterness in her tone continued to cut deep into Victor's heart. Yuri wasn't saying so directly, but it was clear that she didn't think very highly of herself. Victor realized that this fact made him heartbroken because he had contributed to the narrative that she wasn't good enough. He had been so caught up in his own feelings and desires that he had failed to take into account the person he was sworn to care for for the rest of their lives.

Victor vowed then and there that he would try with every fiber of his being to treat Yuri the way she deserved to be treated. It was a vast undertaking, and it wasn't going to be easy, but he knew he needed to do this. He didn't want to end up like his parents, most of all his father. These revelations were a big blow to Victor's pride, but he knew he needed to be an adult about all of this and begin to worry about someone else rather than himself.

"I know you don't trust me much right now," Victor began, his voice almost a whisper in order to maintain some control of the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, "but I...I realize...I haven't been the best husband to you." No response. Victor continued on. "Yesterday...I was blaming you for something that happened at the office and...I just assumed you knew what had happened. I set expectations...and didn't tell you what they were."

Yuri continued her reticence, drawing a sigh from Victor. "You're right. I didn't want to marry you." That statement caused Yuri to gasp, and he saw tears well in her eyes, but he persisted. "It wasn't because I didn't want to marry _you_ , but because I wanted to choose my partner for myself."

Victor reached out and tucked locks of Yuri's hair behind an ear. "The other day...when I told you I thought you were beautiful? I meant it. And...I want to get to know you. I saw a glimpse of her when you danced to that metal music."

He waited expectantly for an answer. He heard Yuri sob, and he imagined the scene would play out like it did in the movies. He figured she would cry a little more, fling her arms around him, and forgive him on the spot.

That's not what happened.

"Please go."

Victor was struck dumb by her utterance. It took a moment for him to process what she said. His first reaction was to be offended, and he let himself feel it for a few seconds before taking a deep breath to calm himself. He did say this wasn't going to be easy, and Yuri had confirmed that for him. He sighed in acquiescence.

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning."

Victor vacated the room and went to the couch. He lay there for a few minutes, trying to sort through his feelings. While he hadn't said that he was sorry, he felt he had said enough to indicate that he was. He figured the ball was in Yuri's court, so to speak, and he was waiting for her next move. He hoped that she would accept his apology for what it was and give him the opportunity to prove that he meant what he said.

"Tomorrow is Saturday," Victor said out loud as he thought of things they could do together to begin to undo the damage he had already caused. He hoped that he wasn't too late.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I apologize for the longer than anticipated wait! I was offered a new job and accepted it, so things have been crazy while I receive training and adjust to my new schedule. Thanks for waiting!

Just a gentle reminder that this story is being told from Victor's perspective, so it is skewed and there is plenty of information missing about what is going on in Yuri's head. Don't worry - it won't always be like that. :) The song that Yuri dances to in this chapter is "Solitary Ground" by Epica.

* * *

All I ever wanted, all I ever needed  
is here in my arms.  
Words are very unnecessary -  
they can only do harm.  
~ "Enjoy the Silence" by Lacuna Coil

Victor awoke the next morning to big light flakes of snow falling and knew the day should probably be spent indoors. It wouldn't be any fun to deal with biting wind and bitter cold temperatures. With a sigh, he stretched his whole body to wake himself further. He felt a little stiff from sleeping on the couch curled in the fetal position. He hoped his muscles would loosen more as the day progressed instead of developing into knots.

Victor rose to a seated position and peered around the room, looking for Yuri. A quick search revealed that he was alone. He wondered how long she would sleep. On the weekends, she usually rose before him and had breakfast cooking. It was apparent that this wasn't going to happen today.

The next thing that crossed Victor's mind was Yuri's reaction to his confessions last night, and how devastated she was by his honesty. Victor understood her reaction even though he didn't like it. He wondered if she would still be upset today or if she would attempt to pick up where they had been two nights ago to show that she forgave him.

Standing from the couch, Victor made his way to the kitchen. He rifled through the cabinets for tea. Once located, he set a kettle to boil and began to ponder his choices for breakfast. A quick glance at the digital display on his microwave revealed that it was 11:17 AM. A minute or so of contemplation led to the conclusion that Victor wasn't really hungry, but he decided he would bring a mug of tea to Yuri. He pulled down two mugs from a cabinet and set them on the counter.

He went through the process of making two cups of green tea that Yuri had brought with her from Japan. Victor knew she drank hers unsweetened, but he hadn't acquired the taste for it without a little honey. He added some to his own mug and stirred it. He grabbed both mugs by the handles and made his way down the hallway to the bedroom. He was about to knock on the door when he heard her accented voice murmuring through the door. He leaned forward to see if she was speaking in a language he could understand and then if he could hear anything.

"No, Phichit." _English. Okay_. "We haven't really...talked. He's so different here than he was in the press."

Victor could hear another voice, but it was garbled and difficult to understand. Victor guessed that Yuri was facetiming with this Phichit person. The name sounded familiar, and Victor wracked his brain trying to remember where he had heard the name before. He was also curious about the press releases he had done. He had participated in several interviews and photo shoots with international business publications to promote the Nikiforov brand, so he wondered which ones Yuri had seen.

"But...he's _Victor Nikiforov_." Victor was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of his name. "He already told me that he didn't want to marry me, and..." More garbled speech. "Well, he said it's because he didn't have a choice, but every time I tried to accommodate him, he shut himself off. He made it hard for me to want to open up."

"You said he apologized last night."

Victor inwardly cheered at being able to hear some of the other side of the conversation. He then went back to the stress Yuri put on his name, and he thought back on the press he had garnered being the face of the Nikiforov empire. It was true that he had been the subject of several Internet conversations about his bachelorhood and speculation about his marriage prospects. He hadn't paid them any heed, but it was clear Yuri had. It was also becoming apparent that Yuri had done far more research on him prior to their marriage than he had done on her.

 _Phichit...Yuri said she went to college with him_ , Victor finally recalled. He remembered Yuri had talked about going to college in Detroit during one of their dinners, and he had paid it some mind, but he had also been distracted by something else that day. He couldn't remember what she had majored in - maybe because he had focused on the fact that she had continued to train for competitive figure skating there. For some reason, that information stuck out the most in his mind.

"Yes...and I don't know..."

"You are overthinking things, I think. I bet you things will change if you just...let him in."

A pause followed by a deep sigh. "Okay."

Phichit's speech became garbled again, and then silence. Victor didn't know what to do with the little information he had heard, but one thing was clear - they needed to talk. He straightened up and waited a beat before knocking on the door.

"Come in," Yuri called.

Victor opened the door to see Yuri still curled under the comforter, her body facing him. Makkachin lay behind her, and poked his head up to greet Victor with a quiet bark. He smiled sheepishly as he carefully made his way across the floor in order not to spill any tea. Yuri noticed the mugs and sat up as Victor approached the bed. He handed her a mug, which she accepted gratefully. Victor sat beside her. She wrapped both hands around the mug and inhaled the fragrance of the tea before sipping.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Victor smiled and blew at his own tea to cool it some. He watched Yuri, wondering if he should start a conversation or wait for her. When the silence continued, Victor looked out the window to see what the snow was doing. It was coming down quicker now. _I need to check the weather app_. He looked back at his wife.

"It's snowing," he finally offered.

Yuri's head turned to look out the window, and a small smile graced her lips. "Is it going to be bad?"

Victor had pulled out his phone to peruse the weather app. "The wind is supposed to pick up and could cause some poor visibility and bitter wind chills. It might be best to stay inside today." Yuri nodded, and Victor gulped, deciding he would take the plunge into uncomfortable territory. "Um...about last night..."

Yuri's head snapped back to Victor, her gaze wary. "Yes?"

"I...I know I said that I didn't choose you, and that's true in several respects. I do want to try to make this work. I just need you tell me what you want from me."

Yuri nodded before taking another sip of tea. Once she swallowed, she answered. "I want you to be you...not what you think others expect you to be."

 _No more hiding,_ she was saying. Victor nodded in agreement. "Okay. I'll-" Victor was interrupted by his phone ringing. He looked down and once recognizing the number, he groaned before picking up. "Yes?"

"I need you in the office today to receive some faxes from the Katsukis," Evgeni demanded in Russian.

Victor eyed Yuri, who was gazing at him curiously. Normally, he would do as his father asked without question, but he had just said he would try to be himself and not the man others wanted him to be. It was time to make good on those words. He was slightly afraid of what his father's reaction would be because he had never openly defied his father's requests. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his pounding heart.

"Sorry father," Victor answered in his native language with a sigh that was more production and sarcasm than exasperation. "Saturdays are for my wife." He ended the call and set his phone down on the mattress with a victorious smile.

"What?" Yuri questioned.

Victor looked slightly shocked, placing a hand over his racing heart. "I told my father no for the first time."

Yuri smiled before drinking more of her tea. Victor could see that she was more at ease, and he hoped to keep this going. They drank their tea together, occasionally looking out the window to see how the snow was progressing. Instead of the awkwardness that usually permeated their quiet moments, Victor felt at peace. Once the mugs were empty, Victor took them back to the kitchen and left Yuri to dress for the day. She joined him a few minutes later wearing a dark sweater and jeans.

"What did your father want?" Yuri asked.

Victor rolled his eyes. "He wanted me to go to the office to pick up the estimates for Yutopia. I'm sure he would've found some way to keep me there."

Yuri nodded as she pulled her phone out of her back pocket and began tapping buttons and scrolling. When she found what she was looking for, she turned the phone so Victor could see it. He stepped closer to read it and realized he was looking at the estimates for repairs to Yutopia all in Cyrillic. Victor took the phone, scrolling through the document.

"How did you get this? Did they have someone translate everything?"

"Otō-san emailed everything to me. As for a translator...I'm not sure who they had do this. Is it good?" Yuri explained with a blush.

Victor smiled. "Perfect."

Yuri smiled in relief. "I'm glad." She continued on. "As you can see, the repairs are going to be costly, but it won't be as much as a complete renovation and modernization. There is a movement among the younger customers to spend time in places with historic value...they appreciate the culture more than some of our older customers. We found this was true among our international travelers as well. They love being immersed in a completely different culture."

Victor blinked several times in wonder as she continued to speak her mind about the project. "The only reason the cost is so high is because some of the items are handmade by small businesses. I think the investment would be the right one to make in the long run. It'll support smaller businesses, which will boost Yutopia's reputation in the country. That could lead to people supporting our business because we supported theres."

Victor was surprised by Yuri's decisive thoughts on this project. "Wow...I didn't know you were so well informed."

Yuri nodded. "It is my home and my family's livelihood...I should be."

Victor laughed. "And my father thought he'd just use you for translating."

Yuri giggled, and the sound made Victor's heart pound against his chest in sheer bliss. This was really the first time he was hearing her genuine laughter, and he thought it endearing. He gave her the phone back, letting his fingers brush against the back of her hand. His touch didn't go unnoticed, and a light blush colored her cheeks. He captured her eyes with his own, and he could see a little vein of uncertainty but there was an overall confidence in her gaze that surprised Victor. Makkachin barked.

Victor broke the gaze and turned his attention to his poodle. His tail wagged expectantly, and it took a moment for Victor to realize that he hadn't taken Makkachin for a walk. He looked out the window and groaned at the near white-out conditions before heading to the door where boots and a heavy coat were now being kept. He put the items on and turned to retrieve Makkachin's leash. He saw Yuri standing there, scrolling through her phone.

"Hey," Victor called to get her attention. Yuri looked up. "Want to take Makka on a walk with me?"

"I would like that very much," Yuri whispered in reply.

Victor grabbed Makkachin's leash as Yuri dressed in her own heavy coat, thick wool scarf, and snow boots. Both made their way to the elevator and then to the snow-covered sidewalk. Makkachin barked with joy and bounded down the sidewalk, his leash slipping from Victor's fingers. Victor let out a little sound of distress as he stepped forward in an attempt to pick up the leash. He missed the leash again, but he stopped short when he heard Yuri's usually soft voice command the poodle.

"Makkachin!" she called firmly.

Makkachin paused and turned to regard the human that was calling him. He let out another bark as he galloped across the snow and leapt up at Yuri. She laughed and turned her body in order to make sure Makkachin didn't knock her over. Once she was sure she would remain upright, she ruffled his fur, grabbing his leash in the process. Yuri gently pushed the dog off of her and led him back to Victor.

"Thanks," Victor murmured as he took hold of the leash. "He really likes you. Makka's friendly but he's never been so affectionate toward anyone else but me."

"He's a sweet dog. He reminds me of my own poodle that passed away last year," Yuri replied with a deep sigh that Victor realized she was using to hold back tears.

The pair began to make their way down the sidewalk, Makkachin sniffing at the snow. "I'm sorry for your loss," Victor said sincerely. "I can't imagine how that feels."

Yuri nodded. "Makkachin is helping me heal the hurt. It's...amazing how much happiness a furry loved one can bring into a home."

Victor nodded in agreement before wondering if Yuri was making an underhanded dig at the state of their marriage. He felt slightly miffed but ignored the feeling. "Makka definitely makes me happy."

A gust of wind blew, forcing Yuri to stand still and curl into herself to lessen the blow of wind and snow against her. Victor watched briefly before stepping to her side and wrapping his free arm around her. She automatically turned to bury her face in his coat. Victor felt a thrill of excitement race through his body at the contact. He had been fantasizing about what having any sort of intimate touch between them would be like, and despite the heavy clothing between them, he decided it was pure bliss to know that she was turning to him for some form of comfort.

He turned his attention to Makkachin, who had increased his sniffing. Once Makkachin had finished his business, Victor directed them back inside. It was too cold to be out in the weather for long. Once they had returned to the flat, Victor and Yuri shed their winter clothing and hung their coats to dry. Yuri made a quick escape to the kitchen, and Victor followed out of curiosity. He watched as Yuri pulled out everything to make tea.

Yuri finished making the tea in ten minutes and handed over a mug to Victor, which he accepted with a smile. They went into the living room and sat next to each other on the couch with a little space between them. Yuri drew up her knees to rest her mug on them. Victor noted a slight tremor in her hands and became slightly worried. Without a second thought, he reached out and touched the back of her hand once again. Yuri peered at him through her lowered eye lashes.

"Are you okay?" Victor asked.

Yuri nodded. "Just cold. That wind cuts through you."

"How about a blanket?"

"That would be great," Yuri replied with a small smile.

Victor set his mug on the coffee table and got up from the couch. He retrieved an aqua throw from the linen closet and returned to the couch. After unfolding it, he lay it over Yuri's knees. She pulled the blanket up to her shoulders after setting her mug down. She burrowed under the blanket, sighing contentedly. Victor rejoined her on the couch.

"So...is there anything you want to do today? I know we're limited to indoor stuff, but I have some movies...um..."

"Well, I was gonna warm up and then make some lunch. I think today is a good day for katsudon."

Victor was intrigued. "What's that?"

"It's a breaded and fried pork steak and egg served over rice with a yummy sauce. It's my favorite thing to eat." Yuri explained with the biggest grin Victor had ever seen.

"Sounds amazing."

Lunch was beyond Victor's expectations. He has never eaten anything so delicious and comforting. He felt warm and content when he had finished eating, ready for a nap. Victor returned to the couch after dishes had been cleaned and flopped on the cushions. Makkachin approached him for some ear scratches, and Victor obliged. Yuri followed behind him, furiously texting. Victor noted that she appeared flustered, and he waited for her to make eye contact before he inquired about what was bothering her.

"What's wrong?"

Yuri shook her head. "Nothing. It isn't important."

"But it's upsetting you," Victor pressed.

"I'm not upset," Yuri denied vehemently.

Victor knew he should drop the subject. Whatever it was, Yuri didn't want to share right away. Maybe she would later. Victor was feeling lazy and didn't want to expend more energy than was necessary, so he merely shifted to make room for Yuri on the couch. She accepted the spot and set her phone aside.

"I was thinking of dancing later," Yuri began. "Would you like to come?"

The word dance triggered a reminder in Victor's mind, and he sat up with urgency. Yuri looked taken aback by his sudden movement. "Shit! I totally forgot there's a formal business dinner on Friday!"

Yuri looked startled. "What?"

Victor sighed. "Yeah. It's a networking dinner among all the wealthy business owners. I hate going to them, but my father has made my attendance a requirement. You'll be expected to go as well."

"Oh," she replied, looking uncomfortable.

"How's your Russian coming along? I ask because no one's going to speak English much less Japanese in that room."

"It's passable, I guess. I can hold simple conversations, but I also still need time to decode what people are saying."

"Okay...well...I guess that means you'll stay by my side all night."

Yuri's gaze dropped to her hands which were now clasped in her lap. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a burden."

Victor sighed. She was an inconvenience with her language barrier, but his annoyance was tempered by the knowledge that Yuri had been putting a lot of time and effort into learning Russian. Victor knew he would already be irritable for the simple fact that he had to be there, and he was always careful about the image he presented to these highly judgmental snobs. Yuri's difficulty with Russian would end up reflecting poorly on her and him, and the prospect made his blood boil.

"It's fine. We'll make it work. In the meantime, you'll have to find an evening gown, jewelry, and a place to have your hair and make-up done."

"Okay. I'll look during the week."

With that, Yuri rose from the couch and went to the bedroom. Victor wondered if she was more upset than she was letting on and was going to hide in the bedroom. He continued to stroke Makkachin's fur, letting his thoughts swirl around the dinner he was being forced to attend on Friday. If anything, the prospect of having to put on a mask and pretend that everything was perfect soured his mood.

Yuri returned dresses in her typical dance outfit with her shoe bag slung over her shoulder. She was staring at Victor, and it took him a moment to realize that she was inviting him and that he hadn't given her a proper response. He rose from the couch and followed Yuri out of the flat and to the elevator.

When they came to the studio, Yuri stepped through the doorway while Victor lingered right outside the door. Yuri turned to face him, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

"You can come in. You don't have to stand out in the hallway unless you really want to."

Victor was struck by this statement. He had never gone into the studio because it felt like he was intruding into her personal space, and now she was inviting him in. To him, this was a big step forward because she was letting him in. He knew he couldn't say no. He stepped into the studio, suddenly unsure where he was supposed to go or what to do. He decided the best thing he could do was sit in a corner out of the way. He did just that, crossing his legs and keeping his gaze on Yuri.

Yuri was initially uncomfortable. She put on her regular ballet shoes and started some classical piano music to warm-up to at the barre. Victor was immediately drawn to watching her every movement. He thought she was the embodiment of grace. Each movement was strong, sure, and fluid, and as the minutes ticked by, Victor could tell she was relaxing - no longer bothered by his presence.

Once she was finished with her warm-up and stretches, Yuri changed the music to something completely different than what she had been dancing to when he was around previously. The music started out quietly with a lone oboe and strings before more instrumentation joined in. A female began singing in a plaintive way. Yuri's facial expressions and movements reflected the loneliness and pain evoked by the vocalist.

Victor's chest ached with the same emotions Yuri was conveying. In all of his life so far, he had never had anyone evoke such strong emotion outside of anger like Yuri was doing. It was a thrilling and frightening all at once. More than anything, Victor found that it was intoxicating to feel something other than the varying degrees of anger and apathy, and he wanted more.

Yuri finished the dance on the floor lying on her side with her knees drawn up to her chest. Victor released a breath he didn't know he had been holding in, making Yuri tilt her head back to look at him. Victor smiled broadly at her. She sat up.

"How do you do that?" Victor asked breathlessly.

"Do what?" Yuri asked with a blush.

"Make me... _feel_."

She looked astounded. "I don't know. I just...dance what I feel."

"I just...I'm so used to keeping everything...hidden. You make it look so easy to share yourself with the world."

Yuri vigorously shook her head. "No, it's not easy. Dance...that's where I feel safest sharing my deepest self because there's still some sort of physical distance between me and the audience." A pause. "I'm like you."

Yuri looked so vulnerable, and it sparked a sort of protectiveness in Victor. He rose, holding a hand out to Yuri. Yuri hesitates for a moment before getting to her feet and approaching Victor. She stood for a beat before placing her hand in his. He drew her close, wrapping his arms around her. Victor felt her stiffen, but he didn't care. He didn't realize how much he had been craving this kind of intimate touch until this moment, and he was going to indulge.

Despite having exerted herself, Victor noted that Yuri's hair smelled of almond when he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled. His body tingled at the feeling of her body against his, eliciting goosebumps up his arms. He could feel a rush of desire coil deep in his pelvis, making him go half hard. Everything converged to make Victor feel lightheaded as if he had been drinking a fine wine.

He wanted her like he had never wanted anything else in the world. He wanted to slide his hands all over her, exploring every curve. He wanted to leave a trail of kisses down her neck, making her writhe with pleasure at his touch. He wanted to slide into her and stroke her slowly to orgasm, reveling in her breathy moans and the feel of her fingernails pressing into his skin to leave little red welts.

Yuri was still stiff in his arms, and Victor realized that despite his overwhelming need, he couldn't force Yuri any further. He couldn't even ask for a kiss when her body seemingly couldn't handle this simple gesture. Reluctantly, Victor pulled away and looked down at Yuri. Her eyes were shining with a mix of trepidation and desire. _She did like that_.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he murmured. "I...I just..."

"It's...it's okay," she assured. "It just surprised me." An awkward pause. "We should go back up to the flat. Maybe...we can watch a movie?"

Victor nodded in agreement with a smile. "Sure."

They returned and after Yuri had dressed into lounge pants and t-shirt, they curled up on the couch underneath a blanket. Victor couldn't remember what movie they watched, and in all honesty, it didn't matter to him. All he cared about was that Yuri spent the entire length of the movie wrapped in his arms - at one point dozing with her head resting against his chest. It was a bliss that Victor had only dreamed of and hoped he would get to experience more as time went on.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Whew! This chapter is a doozie and took forever to write! The song Yuri skates to in this chapter is "Beautiful" by Apocalyptica. Thanks for your patience and continued interest in this story!

* * *

"Are you worth your weight in gold?  
'Cause you're behind my eyelids when I'm all alone."  
~ "Hurricane" by Panic! at the Disco

Victor awoke the next morning feeling aroused. As he became more aware of his surroundings, he realized that his boxer briefs were uncomfortably damp and sticky. He opened his eyes to see Yuri sleeping peacefully mere inches from him - the inspiration behind the erotic dreams he had experienced through the night. He tried to recall the details of the dreams just to have a clearer picture of his desires, but memories teased at the edges of his consciousness leaving him feeling increasingly inflamed and frustrated.

His pining for her was stronger than he realized to have resulted in the first wet dream he'd had in years. He stared at Yuri and took note of one arm slid beneath the pillow and the other fisted and touching her chin just below her mouth. It was the unguarded expression on her face that Victor was compelled to admire because she had never been at ease like this around him thus far. Victor could feel a battle rage within him between his instinctual desires and his rational thoughts. He knew what would satisfy him the most was to roll over and claim Yuri, but he also was aware that Yuri hadn't expressed comfort with this aspect of their relationship yet.

Victor felt gross from the messy state of his genitals, and he rolled out of bed to the en suite bathroom. He peeled the offending garment off and tossed it to the side, disgusted with how a natural bodily function made him feel like an inexperienced teenager once again. It brought back some general unsavory memories of that time in his life that he wished would just stay hidden. Victor turned the shower on and waited for the water to warm. As he did so, he continued his attempts at recalling his dreams.

Brief visions of Yuri's flawless naked skin flashed across his mind, but the detail was fuzzy enough that he couldn't quite discern which part of her body he was seeing. Still, the fleeting images were enough to make Victor whine with need. He stuck a hand in the spray to gauge its warmth, and once satisfied with the temperature, he stepped in with a blissful sigh.

His hand immediately went down to the base of his erection, and he began sliding his hand slowly upward, adding more pressure at the head and placing a thumb to rub at the sensitive tip. The relief he felt from the contact made him exhale loudly, and his eyes closed as he tipped his head back. His gasps and rumbles of pleasure remained quiet as he imagined that it was Yuri that was touching him. He could feel tendrils of ecstasy pool deep into his groin, and he thrust into his own hand at an agonizing pace to draw out the build to orgasm.

Victor had no idea what Yuri would actually say during sex - if she did speak - and he had no idea how loud her vocalizations would be. All he could do was fantasize what would drive him over the edge, and he began whispering what would turn him on. The breathy quality of his words made it easier for him to think it was Yuri telling him how much she needed him and how she wanted to make him feel good as his mind turned it's entire attention to the satisfying sensations overtaking his body.

The languorous motion at which he bucked his hips was losing its effectiveness. He thrust a little harder and faster into his twisting hand, drawing out a low groan that echoed through the shower stall. He didn't care if anyone heard him. Victor braced himself against the wall with his left hand flat against the cool tile. All he could think about was Yuri and how amazing it would feel to finally be able to connect with her on this level.

The world around Victor fell away until all he was aware of was the electrifying sensations and the hot water running over his body. He could smell the faint presence of almond - the same scent he had detected in her hair yesterday, and it sent a thrill of excitement through him.

"Yuuuri," he mewled desperately.

Victor's breath hitched, and a strangled cry emitted from his lips as he tumbled over the edge. He kept thrusting through his orgasm until the stimulus was too much. He stilled his movements, letting his body slump with his left hand taking on the brunt of his weight. He felt spent, but he knew that the relief he felt now was temporary. He would only be truly satisfied by his wife.

Victor let out a shuddering breath and rose to his full height. His breathing had slowed, and he felt more focused on the day ahead of him instead of being consumed by lust. He grabbed his loofah and bottle of body wash, and while uncapping the bottle to pour some of the blue liquid on the loofah, Victor thought of something he and Yuri could do together today. He didn't really want to do it, but he knew it would make Yuri happy, and the gesture would serve to strengthen their relationship.

He was going to take Yuri to the ice rink where the Russian team practiced. He hoped that he could convince the coach to allow Yuri to skate for the team as Victor was sure Yuri wanted to continue her career as a competitive figure skater. It was going to be painful walking through those doors, especially since he hadn't left on good terms.

The thought of returning to the rink brought to the forefront of Victor's mind all the pain and anger associated with that time in his life. He began scrubbing at his skin roughly - a physical manifestation of the rage within. The memories resurfacing brought back the hopelessness he had felt having his dreams crushed and the shame for letting down someone Victor had come to consider a part of his family. He had avoided the rink all these years as his way of putting a bandage over a very deep wound that hadn't even begun to heal.

 _But I'll do it for her..._ Victor thought as he rinsed the foam off his body. He quickly washed his hair before turning the water off. He stepped out of the shower and went through his normal routine as a way to calm all the roiling emotions within. Once he had shaved his face, applied lotion, and combed his hair, he went back into the bedroom. Yuri was still fast asleep on the bed. Victor retreated to his walk-in closet and pulled out a casual pair of slacks and a designer long-sleeved t-shirt. He grabbed a pair of black socks, knowing his feet would get cold in the rink if he just wore loafers.

Once dressed, Victor emerged from the closet and went to Yuri's closet. He rooted around until he located an athletic bag with skates and practice clothing. He removed the items from the bag and went back to his own closet to place them in one of his own athletic bags in order to preserve the surprise. He then made his way to the bed. He leaned over Yuri and brushed her hair out of her face, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. She stirred. Her eyes fluttered open when Victor murmured her name. She looked momentarily confused as she woke, and Victor smiled.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," he greeted playfully. "Are you ready to face another day?"

Yuri rubbed at her eyes, and it was obvious she wasn't able to process everything quickly yet. "Umm...yes?"

"Good, because I have a surprise for you. Wear something comfy, and we'll go get breakfast out."

Victor then vacated the room. It was taking everything in him to remain upbeat and chipper and to not give in to his anxiety about facing his former coach. He _really_ wanted to just go out to breakfast, but he knew Yuri would be disappointed if he didn't follow through. His parents had often done that to him as he was growing up, and he definitely didn't want to make Yuri feel the same way he had.

Yuri emerged from the bedroom dressed in yoga pants and a grey long-sleeved t-shirt. The pair donned their heavy coats and scarves before trudging through ankle deep snow to a small diner down the road. Victor was distracted throughout breakfast - only paying attention enough to order his food, reply to Yuri's conversation with one word answers, and eat. When breakfast was finished, it was like coming out of a fog when Yuri tentatively reached out to touch his arm. He looked down at her and saw a question in her eyes.

"Is everything all right? You've been...distant since we left the flat."

"Sorry," Victor replied sincerely. "I became distracted. Are you ready?"

Yuri nodded. "Where are we going?"

Victor reached out to Yuri's hand and took it. Yuri didn't shy away from the contact, he realized. She didn't even blush. It was as if they had always held hands in public, which was a new development for their marriage. "We're going somewhere...I hope will become a second home to you."

They walked silently hand-in-hand, but Victor couldn't enjoy it. He was too focused on imagining all the different reactions he would receive and the outcomes. He played each scenario out in his head and rehearsed what he would say because when it came down to it, he wanted Yuri to be a part of the Russian team.

They turned the corner and the familiar blue building came into view. Victor's heart rate skyrocketed as his nerves took over. All he could think about was the negative reaction he was sure to get from his former coach. They walked into the building, and Yuri gasped in surprise.

"Victor..." she managed to get out, tears of happiness shining in her eyes.

Victor smiled warmly. _Success_. "This is the home rink of the Russian team. I know you used to be a part of the Japanese team, and I was going to ask the coach if you could join the Russian team...seeing as you are Russian by marriage."

"I would love that!" Yuri's smile was the widest he'd ever seen it.

"We just have to talk to Yakov."

Victor took a deep breath and then exhaled before leading Yuri toward the ice. Now was the time for Victor to shove down all of his insecurities. He knew that no matter how he approached Yakov, the man would be furious. When he realized this truth, Victor was more confident in the way he was going to approach the cranky man. Reaching the ice, Victor could hear the familiar gruff voice of the man that had been such an integral part of Victor's adolescence barking out orders. It induced a fond smile from Victor despite his trepidation.

"Oy, Yakov...who's this geezer?" A blonde-haired youth inquired rudely as he slid to a stop at the boards.

Victor's heart felt like it was going to break through his ribs with the force of its beating, causing him to ignore the slight from the teenager. The aforementioned man stood still for a moment before turning around to face them. It took the briefest moment before Yakov's dark eyes processed who was standing there. A look of shock quickly shone in his eyes before he glowered, harrumphed, and looked away.

"I thought I told you never to come back."

Out of the corner of his eye, Victor saw Yuri stiffen from Yakov's words. He knew she wasn't familiar with how Yakov worked. Victor wasn't ready to give up, and he knew it wouldn't take much to convince the man. Victor had a feeling that even after all these years, Yakov still loved him. He put on his charming smile saved for the media and other public outings and sauntered over to Yakov.

"I'm not the one coming back, Yakov. My wife wants to join the team."

Yakov eyed him, but before he could say anything, the blonde chimed in. "Who is he, Yakov?"

"Go skate, Yuri!" Yakov bellowed, his face beginning to turn a shade of red.

The blonde muttered under his breath as he slid away from the boards. Yakov then turned to regard Victor. Victor saw the tiniest bit of uncertainty in Yakov's eyes, which meant that Victor had a chance at convincing the elder man to allow Yuri to skate for Russia.

"What makes you think I want another skater much less someone tied to the Nikiforov name?"

 _Well, that stung_. Victor immediately guessed that Yakov, too, was still upset with the way things had transpired between the two of them all those years ago. It was a roadblock but also an opportunity because he had admitted indirectly that he still cared for Victor enough to feel this way so many years later. Victor waved toward Yuri to beckon her over, and she gingerly joined them.

"She's a Japanese national champion. I haven't seen her skate yet, but her ballet is phenomenal! I think you'd be remiss to let this one go. She has a lot of potential."

Yakov's gaze turned to Yuri, evaluating her. "A national champion doesn't mean much. And I'm not sure I should accept a such a glowing recommendation from someone like you, especially when you haven't seen her skate."

The hits kept coming, which Victor expected, but he had to admit it was getting tougher to maintain his cool by the minute. He felt that Yakov was being unfair as they were both aware that it wasn't Victor's decision to quit. Victor's fake smile became broader as he continued, drawing Yakov's attention back to him.

"Don't punish her for something she had no part in. Just...give her a chance. I'm sure she won't disappoint."

Victor looked to Yuri, and noticed she had gone deathly pale. Yakov returned his gaze to her and appraised her. "You wouldn't happen to be Yuri Katsuki?"

Yuri nodded. "I am."

Yakov sighed. "Get on the ice and warm up. I want to see your short program from last season." He then turned back to Victor as Yuri scuttled off. "You don't know anything about her, do you?"

Victor's answering shrug was nonchalant. "I know enough."

Yakov's eyes narrowed. "I see you haven't changed. Your parents are still making decisions for you."

Now Victor was just annoyed, his patience running thin. Victor realized that Yakov could tell he wasn't being honest with his outward emotions. He had been the only person who cared enough to call him out on it. Despite this, Victor was determined to keep a wall up between him and Yakov because the last thing he wanted was to discuss the past. Not when it still hurt. "You wouldn't understand, Yakov."

Yakov's attention turned back to the the ice to watch the blonde Yuri. "Yuri! That is the sloppiest quad I've ever seen!" A short pause. "Yuri Katsuki _is_ a Japanese National Champion, and last year, she qualified for the Grand Prix Final for the first time."

Victor was surprised. "She did?"

"She was a mess." Victor flinched slightly at Yakov's brusqueness. "I barely paid attention after she flubbed her first triple combo in her short. She was dead last."

Yakov had very high standards for his skaters, which was why the Russian team always produced highly competitive and successful skaters. They were always technically sound, sometimes at the cost of artistry. Victor felt that if Yuri put the same emotion into her skating as she did into her ballet, he was sure Yakov would be drawn in. He could be persuaded to work on her technique if she showed how much artistry she truly had. Victor sighed.

"Not everyone is appointed to the Grand Prix series, so there must be _something_ there."

"But can she meet my standards? You certainly did...but that was thrown away."

Victor's head whipped to the side to glare at Yakov. "I'm not here to discuss me. What's done is done...I can't change it."

Yuri picked the perfect time to enter the area wearing the same long-sleeved t-shirt, black pants that clung tightly to her skin, gloves, and her skates. Her hair had been tied back into a ponytail. Victor watched as she placed all of her things on the bench, her phone clutched tightly in her hands. Yakov clapped and all the skaters on the ice came over. Yakov directed them off the ice while Victor took Yuri's phone with an encouraging smile.

"Which song?"

"Beautiful."

 _I've never heard of that one before._ The title made the contents of the song sound dubious, and Victor found himself hoping he hadn't made a bad decision by bringing Yuri to the rink. He went scrolling through her playlist to find the song. He walked over to the sound system as Yuri took to the ice and skated a few circles around the rink before taking her position at the center. Victor saw her stand with one foot behind the other with toe pick in the ice. Her arms were wrapped around her torso with head bent downward to touch her left shoulder. Yuri gave a nod, and Victor pressed play.

The song did live up to its title in an understated way that screamed Yuri's personality. The song started quietly with two cellos as Yuri gently unfurled herself and slid slowly across the ice. A third cello entered the song and Yuri's speed increased. The lines of her body were fluid and yet so controlled at once. As the music came to a subtle crescendo, she completed a triple salchow, double axel combo. Her landing was a little wobbly, but she stuck it. The breath that Victor didn't realize he had been holding was released through pursed lips.

Victor heard Yakov hum thoughtfully as the performance continued. Yuri was mesmerizing on the ice - her step sequences and spins were things of beauty, but as another crescendo approached, Yuri's triple axel ended with her crashing to the ice. Victor's heart jumped up into his throat, and he let out a gasp, taking a step forward as if he was going to run out on the ice if she didn't get up.

Yuri rose from the ice clearly rattled, but she continued on. The rest of the skate wasn't as controlled as the beginning had been, but she finished with a triple lutz followed by a combination spin. She stood in the center briefly before she skated toward the boards, her face drawn tight with disappointment. Yakov brushed past Victor and began speaking to Yuri in hushed tones. Victor desperately wanted to know what was being said. Yakov then motioned to the rest of the skaters who took to the ice once more. Yuri joined them, and Victor grinned in triumph.

Yakov approached Victor once more. "It was a terrible choice of music for a short at an international competition like the Grand Prix."

The passion for skating that had been bottled up inside Victor for so long exploded out of him. "I agree! It was a beautiful skate, but it wasn't remarkable or competitive. Yuri needs something that will challenge her and show them that she's a force to contend with."

Yakov smirked. "She needs to work on her jumps."

Victor waved away his concern with a swift motion of his hand. "It'll happen. I believe in her."

A short beat of silence. "For someone who barely knows his wife, you're awfully quick to sing her praises. Does she truly have potential, or am I taking a risk on someone who is really mediocre just because Victor Nikiforov asked me to?"

Victor closed his eyes and clenched his fists to remind himself to keep his annoyance in check. Anyone who had seen Yuri dance would never call her mediocre. "Yakov-"

"Don't insult me, Vitya," Yakov chided. "I expect nothing less than honesty from my skaters, including the ones that walk away."

Hot tears stung his eyes, and he opened them to regard Yakov with the most vulnerable expression he had revealed in a long time. He hadn't let anyone see him this open since the day he was forced to say good-bye to Yakov. "Please," Victor choked out. "Don't make me do this now."

Yakov regarded Victor for a few moments, making him squirm in discomfort. Victor kept averting his eyes from Yakov's penetrating gaze. There was so much Victor wanted to say; so much he regretted, but it wouldn't matter if he shared these feelings or not because it wouldn't change anything that had happened. It wouldn't change the reality that Victor would never skate again.

Another thoughtful hum. "Are you happy?"

Victor's gaze returned to the ice to watch Yuri trace figures as the others skated around her as if she wasn't there. In that moment, the loneliness exhibited by his wife made Victor's heart clench in empathy. He understood this soul crushing emotion along with the accompanying misery. He hoped that giving Yuri this opportunity would allay some of his own melancholy he had foisted on her and made her responsible for. Victor felt his own emotions and disappointments were burdens he should carry on his own.

"I have to be."

"If you or your family interfere with her skating, I'll never forgive you. I mean it this time when I say that you will never be allowed to come back. I won't let them steal another promising skater from me. Is that understood?"

* * *

For the first time, Victor could confidently say that Yuri was genuinely happy. The next morning, she greeted him with a smile that made her eyes sparkle and his heart pound loud enough that he could hear his blood rushing in his ears. She presented him with a plate of food as he sat down at the table.

"Good morning," her voice was lilting as she spoke in Russian.

Victor's surprise was deep. He hadn't expected to hear her talk in his native language since he had acclimated to conversing in English around her. The fluidity of her words and the pronunciations had improved since the last time he had heard her speak Russian.

"Good morning. I...wasn't expecting you up so early on a Monday," he replied in Russian.

Yuri took a moment to process the rapidly delivered response and then nodded when she understood. "Yes. I'm going for a run before I attend practice."

"Ah. You seem happy."

Yuri sat at the table, a light blush beginning to color her cheeks. "I am...thanks to you."

Victor felt slightly jealous that Yuri was getting the chance to live the life that Victor had always wanted. He had dreamed of becoming an elite athlete and being able to sustain himself on his earnings from winning international competitions, endorsements, and sponsorships. Yakov had believed that Victor was capable of reaching that level of performance. _But I had to throw it all away_ , he thought bitterly.

"Look, I thought you were beautiful yesterday but Yakov is going to change your program. I agree...it's not a competitive piece...more like an exhibition."

Yuri's eyes glazed over in panic as she attempted to translate what Victor had said. Victor sighed, still feeling a bit mean spirited due to his jealousy, and he repeated what he had said in English. Yuri's cheeks turned a darker shade of pink, and her eyes turned downward.

"I know I didn't skate my best. I didn't land my jumps cleanly at all, and I lost it on my triple axel. I _can_ do that jump! It's just...I got nervous and..."

"Don't worry...Yakov will find something better for you to make you stand out. I'm sure you'll qualify for the next Grand Prix and win gold." Victor's tone was dismissive.

Yuri just chuckled nervously as she pushed the food around on her plate with a fork. She then abruptly stood and cleared her plate from the table. "Sorry...I'm going to get going now."

Victor watched as she left in a hurry, and he wondered why she was suddenly so awkward. He couldn't think of a cause and with a shrug, turned his attention to his breakfast. He thought the weekend went well, and he was content with the way things were going with his relationship with Yuri. He decided his favorite part of the whole weekend was the time they spent on the couch with Yuri curled up in his arms. It had provided him a small snapshot of what life could be like if they could learn to trust each other.

In fact, Victor was going to determine that the entire weekend was a success. He was going to ignore the dredging up of old emotions from returning to the rink because it was easier at this time to ignore the fact that's there was so much regret tied to his skating career. Being in the building and speaking with Yakov made Victor realize just how much the bitterness had grown, and it was overwhelming to try to face it as it loomed large like a malevolent shadow. Thinking about this dark time in his life reminded Victor that he would be seeing his father today, who would more than likely bring up Victor's refusal to go to the office on Saturday.

"Shit...he's going to be livid," Victor mumbled.

He sighed in frustration as he got up from the table and put on a pea coat. The drive to the office was silent as Victor thought about how the morning would play out for him. All he knew was that no matter what happened, he was going to be the target of Evgeni's wrath. When he arrived, he deposited his pea coat in his office before making the short trek to his father's.

Sure enough, Evgeni's mood was sour. The glower on his face could be seen clear across the room, making Victor tense every muscle in defense. Victor took his customary place in front of the desk, waiting for his father's nasty words. Silence enveloped them both as Evgeni continued to stare down his son.

It was as if Evgeni was using the oppressive quiet to intimidate his son - leaving him in a limbo to fret over whether or not he would rage or if the weekend's slight would be ignored. Victor knew he was going to be scolded, and the waiting game he was being forced to play right now just increased his aggravation.

"Perhaps...we had you marry too soon. It's becoming clear to me that she is nothing but a distraction to you," Evgeni finally stated. His voice was calm but there was an edge to it that hinted at the anger simmering just under the surface.

"A distraction from what, exactly?" Victor asked, his voice equally cool.

"The business!" Evgeni unleashed his fury. "Before _she_ came along, _you_ wouldn't have defied me like you did this weekend!"

Victor's lips curled into a sneer as he struggled to maintain his chill demeanor in an attempt to rile his father further. "Why do you insist on believing that she exerts such control over me?"

"Because your marriage is the only recent change you've had!" Evgeni took a deep breath in order to restore his composure. "So tell me, Victor...how does she do it?"

Victor crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg to adopt a casual stance. "What?"

"Control you. Does she suck your cock?"

Victor rolled his eyes. "How vulgar of you."

"An evasive answer usually indicates an affirmative."

"Surprisingly enough, father, _I_ am the one that dictates the sexual relationships I have...not you." A brief pause. "Besides, you and mother were the ones who insisted I marry Yuri."

"Yes, well Asian women are supposed to be submissive," he grumbled.

Victor's response was a caustic laugh that drew a warning hum from his father. "You believed a stereotype? Your naïveté is astounding."

"I should've shut the whole thing down and just had you marry a quiet Russian girl! One that would know her place!"

Victor shifted in order to stand tall, his arms dropping at his side. "The fact still remains that you are the one making these decisions, not me. If anyone is to be blamed for my supposed disinterest in the business, it's _you_."

"You should be able to prioritize better!" Evgeni raged.

Victor scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Yes, of course. It'll always be my fault."

I give up, Victor thought bitterly. He turned and began walking away. He was stopped short by Evgeni's voice cutting through his thoughts.

"Any directives I give you about the business come above everything else...including your wife. I've already made her aware so she knows to encourage your compliance."

Victor whirled around to glare at Evgeni as he realized who Yuri was texting with on Saturday. "Don't meddle in my marriage."

Evgeni's smile was feral. "Then do as I say. The business comes first."

Victor returned to his office. Once he settled at his desk, he whipped out his phone and called Yuri in a panic. He had no idea what Evgeni had said, but he was sure it wasn't kind. As each ring went unanswered, Victor could feel his anxiety increasing. He heard a click and felt relief flood him until he received an earful of rapid Japanese. _Shit...her voice mail_.

A beep sounded, prompting Victor to leave a message in English. "Yuri...please call me as soon as you get this. It's important."

Victor was distracted the rest of the day, waiting for a return phone call. He supposed he could've texted but the conversation wasn't one he wanted to have over text. There was always the chance that someone else would obtain it somehow, and Victor wanted to keep all the family strife under wraps.

Five o'clock couldn't come soon enough. When the long-waited for hour finally arrived, Victor tore out of the building and drove as fast as he could without getting pulled over (not that any police officer would dare pull over a Nikiforov). He was impatient waiting for the elevator that would take him to his flat, and he burst through the front door to the surprise of Makkachin and Yuri.

Yuri was resting on the couch with her feet wrapped in a towel. Victor removed his pea coat and deposited it unceremoniously on the dining room table before approaching Yuri. His gaze landed on her feet.

"Are you okay?"

Yuri nodded. "It's been some time since I was on the ice. My feet ache. I just have some hot packs on them."

"Did you get my message?"

Yuri looked confused. "Um...no? I just got home and haven't checked my phone."

Victor rolled his eyes. "Please get in the habit of checking your phone."

"Sorry," she replied sheepishly.

"It's fine. Whatever. It's better this way anyway."

"What's wrong?" Yuri asked as she drew her feet up to allow Victor room to sit.

Victor took the unspoken invitation. "What did my father say to you on Saturday?"

Yuri looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "I..."

"It's okay," Victor soothed. "My father already told me he spoke to you about...what he thinks you're doing to me."

"He told me my duty was to support you in the business and that this comes above everything else...including our marriage."

Victor scoffed and shook his head as he clenched the fabric of his slacks tightly in his fisted hands. "Our marriage should be the most important thing." Though Victor wasn't going to admit out loud that a tiny part of him wanted to put Yuri first because it was the exact opposite of what his father wanted.

Yuri fiddled with the hem of her shirt, refusing to make eye contact with Victor. "But...the business is what allowed our marriage to happen. And you said that it would need to be successful for our union to matter."

Victor's mouth opened slightly in shock as he processed what Yuri was saying. _Wait..._ "Are you defending him?" Victor accused out loud, his tone revealing his quickly rising temper. "Do you honestly believe that?"

"I don't want to!" Yuri protested, making eye contact.

"But you do," Victor replied in monotone.

She reverted her gaze, curling into herself and wrapping her arms around her legs. "This weekend was so wonderful and made me question your father's assertion that our marriage was just a transaction and nothing more. He told me that's how you viewed it."

"He told you that?" Victor whispered, misery beginning to creep into his voice.

Yuri nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears and unspoken fears. "I don't want it to be true."

Victor looked away, blinded by rage. The situation was worse than he thought. He swiftly rose from the couch and stormed to the bedroom. He knew he should go back and talk everything through with Yuri, but he was too furious to think clearly. His vision seemed to narrow and focus only on what was directly in front of him. He kicked the bedroom door shut and threw himself on the bed to continue to seethe.

He didn't know how long he lay there on his stomach with his face pressed into the mattress before his need for fresh air made him turn his head to the side. He realized he was hurting because he was beginning to care deeply for Yuri. The past few days made his fondness for her grow, and to hear that she may not believe his genuine effort to make everything work stung more than he anticipated.

The next thing he knew, Yuri was entering his field of vision. She settled herself on the bed sitting with her legs crisscrossed in front of her. Nothing was said between them for a few minutes.

"I'm not ungrateful for the weekend we had. It was the best one since we've been married, and I cherish it, especially since it brought me back to skating." Yuri took a deep breath and exhaled before continuing. "But...I can't forget that you didn't choose me."

"Why?"

"Because...because it reminds me how much harder I have to work for your regard."

Victor lifted his head off the mattress. "Why do you think so little of yourself?"

Yuri's eyes widened slightly. "I..."

Victor pushed himself up and then took a seated position. He eyed her carefully, watching her cheeks turn pink. He was drawn in by her vulnerability, and he leaned forward to close the distance between them. The movement made Yuri gasp. He realized that she needed reassurance from him, for him to refute his father's words because they only served to continue Yuri's narrative that she wasn't good enough to be his wife. _And..._ he thought, _I need to be more aware of how I treat her._

"Don't believe my father," Victor replied a little more forcefully than he intended. He then softened his tone. "He doesn't understand me and doesn't want to. The only thing that makes sense to him is the business and anything that is different is dismissed as useless or a waste of time. This is how he views marriage. I'm pretty sure he only married my mother to pour her large inheritance into the business and to produce an heir. It was a transaction. I never wanted my marriage to be like that."

"Me neither."

Victor smiled. He felt his heart begin to race as he began his next sentence. "Yuri, I..." he was about to say 'love you,' but he knew those words would be a lie. He didn't love her...not yet. He exhaled and started over. "I'm..." _Aw hell..._

Victor closed the gap between them and pressed his lips gently to hers. He could sense Yuri's shock through her non-response and body rigidity. She pulled away, making Victor open his eyes. He had never seen her so red.

"Did that bother you?" He murmured.

Yuri vigorously shook her head. "N-no! I just...wasn't ready. I mean! I mean...I wasn't expecting it."

Victor tucked a lock of her silky hair behind her ear. He then dragged his fingers lightly down her jawbone, eliciting a small tremor from her. His whole hand cupped her cheek, and without another word, Victor leaned forward and captured her lips once more with his own.

Yuri was much more responsive this time. He heard a breathy moan trickle out of her. The sound had an immediate effect on him, making him respond in kind to her with the same verbalization. He pressed harder, and Yuri opened her mouth to give him fuller access to her lips.

She tasted faintly of mint. She was soft and supple and much more receptive to his advances. She was clumsy in her movements - a few times their teeth collided, but Yuri picked up on a natural rhythm quickly that had them both chasing each kiss with another, letting euphoria consume them both.

Victor's hand slid from her cheek down to her shoulder and then down her side to finally come to rest at her waist. The curve he had followed was just what he liked, and it made him go hard at the thought that he was finally touching Yuri in such an intimate fashion and being allowed to explore her body.

As he deepened the kiss, Victor's other hand came to the other side of her waist and pulled her close. Victor tumbled backwards, breaking the kiss momentarily. He lost his grip on her waist as he landed on his back with Yuri seated in between his calves, and a part of him feared this would be the end of the intimacy. It wasn't.

Yuri crawled forward until her hands were on either side of his chest, settling her legs between his open ones. She began kissing him once more in earnest. Much to Victor's disappointment, her body remained above his with no contact, though he was sure he would lose any sense of control if she lay herself on him. In any case, she was driving him crazy with her insistent lips exploring his own, and he could feel himself coming apart and giving in to pure pleasurable sensation without rational thought.

He felt Yuri's breasts press against his own chest and her slender fingers slide through his fine hair. He groaned and bucked his hips upward for more contact, which made Yuri pull back. He let out a frustrated whine at the loss of her heat, and opened his eyes to find out what was going on.

Lustful Yuri was breathtaking. Her chest was heaving from exertion, her hair was slightly mussed, her cheeks were red, her lips were swollen, and her eyes were clouded with need. _God...how did I get so lucky!_ Despite this, it was clear from her body language that she had become uncomfortable. He wondered how experienced she was in pleasures of the flesh and decided she didn't know enough since she had been startled by his growing erection.

"It's okay," Victor soothed. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"Are you sure?" Her uncertainty was palpable.

Victor nodded despite his baser urges screaming at him to continue. "Yeah."

Yuri smiles as if a great weight was taken off her shoulders, and she crawled back to her former position. She placed a chaste kiss on his lips before shifting to her right and settling next to him, pressed against him. Victor wrapped an arm around her and placed a kiss on her head.


End file.
